Chapitre 14: 14. Visiting the house
Dean glanced at the hospital door, then at Sam and James. "Alright," he said, keeping his voice low but serious. "If we're doing this, we have to be smart. Hospitals don't just let patients wander off in the middle of the night, especially ones who just survived a fire."
James wondered whether Dean was no going back on his words and spoke,"I can't stay here. I need to know what happened. If you won't help, I'll figure out a way myself."
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes. "Calm down, tough guy. We'll help you. But let me handle the plan, okay? You're not exactly in top shape."
Sam began reconsidering his decision too, "Dean's right. Are you sure you're up for this?"
James nodded firmly at that.
Dean sighed again. "Alright, fine. Here's the plan. We make it look like you're still in bed. Sam, grab a pillow and put it under the blankets to make it look like he's sleeping."
Sam hesitated for a moment, then grabbed a pillow from the spare cot. He arranged it under the blankets, pulling them up to make it look convincing.
"Dean," Sam said as he adjusted the blankets, "what about the nurses? They check the rooms every hour. If they see us leaving—"
Dean smirked. "I've got that covered. I'll distract them while you two sneak out." He turned to James. "Can you walk, or do I need to carry you?"
James swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing as he tried to stand. "I can walk," he said, even though he looked shaky.
Dean raised an eyebrow. "Sure you can," he muttered. Then he looked at Sam. "Stay close to him. If he starts to fall, catch him. We can't have him fainting in the hallway."
Sam nodded, positioning himself beside James. "Ready?" he asked quietly.
James nodded again. "Let's do this."
Dean looked at James's hospital gown. "Alright, first things first—we need to get you out of here without anyone noticing. Do you have any spare clothes in here, or are you stuck in that hospital gown?"
James glanced at himself and grimaced. "Just the gown. My clothes were ruined in the... fire."
Sam stood and moved toward the closet in the corner of the room. Opening it, he pulled out a jacket and a pair of sweatpants. "These might work," he said, handing them to James. "They're a little big, but they'll do for now."
Dean snorted. "Great. We'll have him looking like a runaway gym teacher. Perfect for sneaking past nurses."
James managed a small, nervous smile as he took the clothes. "Not like I have a choice, right?"
Sam gave Dean a warning glance. "Enough, Dean. Focus. James, get changed."
Dean peeked into the hallway as James changed his clothes, checking for nurses or staff. It was clear for now. He turned back to them and as James finsihed wearing clothes, he spoke,"Alright, follow me. Be quiet and don't do anything stupid."
The three of them slipped out of the room. James leaned on Sam a little, trying to stay steady. Dean led the way, moving quickly but carefully. When they got near the nurse's station, Dean stopped and motioned for them to wait.
"Time for me to work my magic," Dean said with a sly grin. He walked up to the nurse on duty, leaning casually on the desk. "Hey there," he said with a friendly smile.
While Dean kept the nurse distracted, Sam and James crept past the station, staying as quiet as possible.
They reached the stairwell without anyone noticing. Sam opened the door, and they slipped inside, letting it close softly behind them.
"Almost there," Sam whispered. "Are you okay?"
James nodded.
When they reached the ground floor, Dean joined them, looking pleased with himself. "Told you I had it handled," he said, clapping Sam on the shoulder.
"Let's just get out of here," Sam muttered.
They exited the hospital through a side door, avoiding the main entrance. Dean had parked the Impala nearby in a hidden spot. They quickly got in, with Dean sliding into the driver's seat.
The car ride was quiet, tension filling the air. James stared out the window, his mind racing with thoughts of the fire and the yellow-eyed figure. His hands clenched into fists as he tried to stay calm.
Sam noticed and spoke softly. "We'll figure this out. You're not alone."
James gave a small nod but stayed quiet.
When they reached James's house, the sight hit him hard. A part of the building was burned and blackened, the roof partly collapsed. Yellow police tape marked the property.
Dean parked down the street, out of sight.
Dean looked at James, his face serious. "You stay here for now," he said. "We'll go check the house and see if it's safe. If it is, we'll come back for you. But don't go inside yet, alright?"
James wanted to argue, but he saw the look on Dean's face and nodded. "Fine, just... be careful."
Dean got out of the car," We've been doing this for a while, don't worry." He then turned to Sam. "Let's go."
Sam gave James a reassuring nod before following Dean toward the house. The place was quiet, the burned parts of the house standing out in the night. The smell of smoke was still thick in the air, and the yellow police tape was a constant reminder of what had happened.
As they reached the front door, Dean pulled out a flashlight and motioned for Sam to do the same. "Stay alert," he said. "If there's something dangerous inside, we need to be ready."
Sam nodded, and they both got their weapons ready. Dean pulled out his gun, while Sam kept a shotgun loaded with salt. They exchanged a quick look and stepped inside.
The inside of the house was in shambles. The fire had taken most of the downstairs. Blackened walls, burnt furniture, and the smell of charred wood filled the air. But there was something else—something familiar, like sulfur.
"Definitely a demon," Dean said quietly, his expression tense. "Stick close."
They carefully walked through the house, flashlights cutting through the dark. The kitchen was ruined, the appliances burned beyond recognition. The living room wasn't much better. Blackened remnants of a couch were all that was left.
"Let's check upstairs," Sam said, pointing to the stairs.
Dean hesitated, glancing back toward James. After a moment, he moved up the stairs, Sam following close behind. The stairs creaked under their weight, the sound oddly loud in the quiet house.
When they reached the top, Dean motioned toward the bedroom where the fire had started. The door was partly open. He nudged it with his foot and peered inside, his flashlight shining on the wreckage.
The room was nearly destroyed. The bed was gone, reduced to twisted metal and ash. The walls were covered in soot. .
"Yeah, this was definitely a demon," Dean muttered. "Let's keep looking."
Sam nodded, and they continued searching the room.
Just then, a faint growl caught their attention. It was low and guttural, coming from the hallway. Dean's grip tightened on his gun, and he glanced at Sam.
"Looks like we're not alone," Dean muttered.
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